Article On The Census In Moscow | Page 4

This etext was produced by David Price, email [email protected],
from the 1887 Thomas Y. Crowell edition.

THE MOSCOW CENSUS--FROM "WHAT TO DO?" by Count Lyof
N. Tolstoi

Translated from the Russian by Isabel F. Hapgood

ARTICLE ON THE CENSUS IN MOSCOW. [1882.]

The object of a census is scientific. A census is a sociological
investigation. And the object of the science of sociology is the
happiness of the people. This science and its methods differ sharply
from all other sciences.
Its peculiarity lies in this, that sociological investigations are not
conducted by learned men in their cabinets, observatories and
laboratories, but by two thousand people from the community. A
second peculiarity is this, that the investigations of other sciences are
not conducted on living people, but here living people are the subjects.
A third peculiarity is, that the aim of every other science is simply
knowledge, while here it is the good of the people. One man may
investigate a nebula, but for the investigation of Moscow, two thousand
persons are necessary. The object of the study of nebulae is merely that
we may know about nebulae; the object of the study of inhabitants is
that sociological laws may be deduced, and that, on the foundation of
these laws, a better life for the people may be established. It makes no
difference to the nebula whether it is studied or not, and it has waited
long, and is ready to wait a great while longer; but it is not a matter of
indifference to the inhabitants of Moscow, especially to those
unfortunates who constitute the most interesting subjects of the science
of sociology.
The census-taker enters a night lodging-house; in the basement he finds
a man dying of hunger, and he politely inquires his profession, his
name, his native place, the character of his occupation, and after a little
hesitation as to whether he is to be entered in the list as alive, he writes
him in and goes his way.
And thus will the two thousand young men proceed. This is not as it
should be.
Science does its work, and the community, summoned in the persons of
these two thousand young men to aid science, must do its work. A
statistician drawing his deductions from figures may feel indifferent
towards people, but we census-takers, who see these people and who
have no scientific prepossessions, cannot conduct ourselves towards
them in an inhuman manner. Science fulfils its task, and its work is for
its objects and in the distant future, both useful and necessary to us. For
men of science, we can calmly say, that in 1882 there were so many

beggars, so many prostitutes, and so many uncared-for children.
Science may say this with composure and with pride, because it knows
that the confirmation of this fact conduces to the elucidation of the laws
of sociology, and that the elucidation of the laws of sociology leads to a
better constitution of society. But what if we, the unscientific people,
say: "You are perishing in vice, you are dying of hunger, you are pining
away, and killing each other; so do not grieve about this; when you
shall have all perished, and hundreds of thousands more like you, then,
possibly, science may be able to arrange everything in an excellent
manner." For men of science, the census has its interest; and for us also,
it possesses an interest of a wholly different significance. The interest
and significance of the census for the community lie in this, that it
furnishes it with a mirror into which, willy nilly, the whole community,
and each one of us, gaze.
The figures and deductions will be the mirror. It is possible to refrain
from reading them, as it is possible to turn away from the looking-glass.
It is possible to glance cursorily at both figures and mirror, and it is
also possible to scrutinize them narrowly. To go about in connection
with the census as thousands of people are now about to do, is to
scrutinize one's self closely in the mirror.
What does this census, that is about to be made, mean for us people of
Moscow, who are not men of science? It means two things. In the first
place, this, that we may learn with certainty, that among us tens of
thousands who live in ease, there dwell tens of thousands of people
who lack bread, clothing and shelter; in the second place, this, that our
brothers and sons will go and view this and will calmly set down
according to the schedules, how many have died of hunger and cold.
And both these things are very bad.
All cry out upon the instability of our social organization, about the
exceptional situation, about revolutionary tendencies. Where lies the